Carson laughed. "They told you about that, huh?" Two eager heads nodded affirmatively, and a few other children around her piped up with a round of 'yeahs.' "I brought a few books with me to read." "Yea!" Kimmie clapped her hands and bounced up and down in her seat. Carson noticed that Kellie was silent, and she reached over, stroking a sleek head. Kellie's hair reminded her of Kennedy's. "You want to hear a story?" Kellie nodded and lowered her head, and slowly snuggled up against Carson, and tucked a thumb in her own mouth. "Stop that!" Kimmie grasped her sister's wrist and wrestled the thumb from her mouth. As soon as she let go, Kellie shivered, and stuck the thumb back in. Kimmie shook her head sadly and looked up at Carson. "She's been doing that ever since we moved here. Hasn't talked any. Mommy's awfully worried about her, but we can't get her to stop, and we can't get her to talk." "Maybe it makes her feel better in strange place," Carson suggested. She felt another shudder work its way through the small body pressed against her, but the girl made no move to scoot away. "Daddy used to hurt us," Kimmie whispered. "For some reason he hurt Kellie more than he hurt me. Mommy used to yell at him a lot not to hurt us, but then he would hurt her, too. About a week ago, we moved here at night, while Daddy was gone. It's a lot better here, but I miss our house sometimes, and I had to leave my clothes and books. "Maybe Santa brought you some new books and clothes," Carson choked out. The lump in her throat grew impossibly larger, and she reached up and swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. She dared not ask how their father had hurt them, but she noted what appeared to be healed cigarette burns on Kellie's wrist. "I hope so," Kimmie continued. "Mommy has been washing out our school clothes every night. Some of the kids at our new school make fun of us for wearing the same thing every day." "Kids can be mean sometimes. Usually it's because they don't understand someone who is different from what they are used to. Don't you listen to them. You're beautiful, don't you ever forget that." Carson leaned down and kissed first Kimmie, and then Kellie, on the head. "Am I beautiful?" Another little girl, who had been listening, enthralled, appeared at Carson's elbow. "Yes." Carson stroked a curly blonde head. "You're all beautiful girls and handsome boys. She looked around at the crowd of children, forgetting the group of adults at the other end of the table, and focusing with undivided attention, as one by one, various children shared their own stories with her. One theme remained constant -- an abusive father, step-father, or a live-in lover of their mothers. Some had been beaten, others had suffered other physical cruelty and mental torture, and some, Carson suspected, had been sexually assaulted. In some cases only the mother was abused, but in most, it seemed the children had also suffered. As the children began to wind down, and most of the cookies disappeared, Carson realized that Kennedy and the women had long since left the topic of taxes, and most of them were in the kitchen adjoining the large dining room, sorting out the boxes of food she and Kennedy had brought with them. Most of it was staples -- canned goods, boxes of dry cereal and pasta, powdered milk, frozen juice, jars of peanut butter, and other things that would help the women stretch out the meals they made each day. All of the women, Kennedy had told her, had chores to do around the house -- cooking, cleaning, laundry, and in the spring, tending a garden of fresh vegetables out back of the house. Chores were done early in the morning and late at night, for the most part. During the day the women were busy interviewing for jobs, attending classes to become hair dressers, or secretaries, or nurse's aids, and appointments were made with various social service agencies, counselors, and attorneys. Most of the women were poor before coming to the shelter, and had few resources, either financial or familial, to fall back on. Many had no skills and had held only the most menial of jobs, with pay much to low to support them and their children in a single-parent situation. Easy as it was to get comfortable in the protective environment of the shelter, all of them were encouraged to become independent as soon as possible, and none were allowed to live at the shelter for more than six months. "Why don't we move back into the living room, and I'll read you those stories?" Carson slid her chair back, and the children quickly did the same, some of them snatching the few remaining cookies, before willingly following her into the living area for a rare treat. Many of their mothers were much too exhausted by day's end to do much more than bathe the children and put them to bed. As Carson situated herself in the center of the couch, she pulled a book out of a bag she'd brought with her, and held it up. "How many of you have heard the story of 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas,' huh?" Several hands shot up, along with a round of 'me, me!' and Carson chuckled, before opening the book and launching into the story. An hour and four books later, she looked up, to see Kennedy and the rest of the adults sitting or standing at the back of the room, many of them listening as earnestly as the children, as she finished telling the story of Laura and Mary Ingalls, and Christmas in the 'Little House on the Prairie.' "What made Christmas so special for Laura and Mary?" Carson questioned the children. "Was it their gifts?" "No!" Kimmie was still at her side, with Kellie sandwiched between them. "They didn't get much for presents." "No, they didn't," Carson agreed with her. "Why was it special, then?" "They was all safe and loved and together," the shy red-head, Erin, answered her from the other side. "Right!" Carson gave her a hug. "And all of us are safe and loved and together tonight, aren't we?" "Yeah!" A loud high-pitched chorus assaulted her ears, and she smiled. "Now." She looked around, her eyes twinkling. It's 10 p.m., and if you don't get to bed, Santa isn't going to come and finish filling those stockings over there. So . . ." she stood up, carefully placing Kellie on her feet. "Off to bed with all of you." "Will you be coming back to read to us again?" Erin peered up at her hopefully. Carson looked across the room and locked eyes with Kennedy. "Yes, I think I'll be back really soon." Kennedy smiled at her, and mouthed an 'I love you,' and Carson winked at her. The children continued to clamor at her, collecting hugs and additional promises to return to play with them and read to them, before one by one, they reluctantly made their way up the stairs to rooms that most of them shared with their own family and at least one other. As the children disappeared, the mothers all thanked the two women, and then followed their children. "Kennedy, thank you." Mona, one of the shelter volunteers came over and draped an arm across her shoulders. "Without you, there wouldn't have been much of a Christmas this year. We have a few turkeys and the trimmings for lunch tomorrow, but gifts were pretty spare this time around. Seems like folks everywhere are stretched thin. "You're welcome. We tried to get a few toys for each of the children, but they will also each have two sets of school clothes, two sets of pajamas, a new tooth brush each, a comb and brush, and a new winter coat and pair of tennis shoes. Thanks for faxing me the list of all their sizes." "Yeah," Carson joined in. "That made it real easy to shop for them." "You are a wonderful story-teller," Mona complimented her. "We'd love to have you back a few times a month, if you're able, maybe on Saturday mornings or Sunday afternoons." "I'd love to," Carson smiled, and returned Mona's side-hug. Mona herself bore tell-tale signs of abuse, her nose and features slightly distorted like those of a boxer who had been knocked out one too many times. Nonetheless, she was cheerful, her big brown eyes shining with a joy that seemed to radiate from within. They said their goodbyes to the rest of the volunteers, and made their way back out to the truck, their feet crunching on the gravel driveway and their breath fogging the cold winter air. As Kennedy opened Carson's passenger door, the house door flew open, and Kellie appeared in the doorway with her mother. The little girl flew down the steps and launched herself into Carson's arms, as she stooped down to greet her. "Thank you," Kellie whispered, and kissed Carson's cheek. Carson hugged her tightly. "I love you, Kellie, and so does your Mommy and your sister." Kellie kissed her again and pulled away, waving shyly before she turned and fled back into the house. Carson looked up, and even in the darkness, could tell Kellie's mother was crying. "What's up with that?" Kennedy asked, after the woman had closed the door and gone back inside. "Um . . ." Carson looked up at the overcast sky, no longer feeling the chilled air. "I think that's the first time Kellie's talked since they came here. She …" Carson sniffled, and hugged her own arms around herself. Kennedy closed the distance, and pulled her close, tucking Carson's head under her chin. "Hey. It's a tough place, sweetheart. You did great in there. I'm real proud of you. The kids loved you. I love you." "I think her father burned her with cigarettes. I saw the scars." Carson sniffled some more. "How could anyone hurt that beautiful little girl?" "I ask myself that same question every time I take on a client from here." Kenney kissed her forehead, and helped her into the truck. "There are some real bastards out there. These women are the lucky ones who got away from them. I have to remind myself that bad as it seems now, many of them will be in a much better place a few months from now, and the kids, too." Carson merely nodded, and settled back in her seat for the long ride home, her thoughts on the plight of the children they left behind. She frowned, wondering what else she could do for them, besides read to them. Maybe she could collect clothing for them on a regular basis, and get some of the grocery stores to donate food. Yeah, that would help. Much later, they pulled up in the garage and gratefully entered the back door of their house. Pine and apple greeted their noses, along with the two dogs and three cats, all hopeful for a midnight chewy bone or kitty treat. Carson flipped on lights and poured up two mugs of cider, while Kennedy offered all the fur-kids their midnight Christmas snacks. "Come on." She took a mug from Carson, and took her hand, and led her into the den, where she quickly got the fire going again. Carson put a Christmas CD on the stereo, and joined Kennedy on the couch, where they snuggled up and silently watched the twinkling white lights on their tree, and the crackle of the fire. Both women felt incredibly rich, in more ways than one. "That hit the spot," Kennedy finished her cider and broke the silence, as she set her mug aside and took Carson's empty one as well. "What say we save all those gifts to open for morning?" "I'm holding onto the only gift I could ever want," Carson answered her. She snuggled up even closer, and pressed her face against the patch of skin below Kennedy's throat, inhaling her sweet, musky scent, and the scent of the cotton flannel that had warmed itself to her body. Kennedy nuzzled her hair, wrapping her arms around Carson and rubbing her hands up and down her back. Slowly, she kissed her way from Carson's forehead, to her nose, to each cheek, then took Carson's face in both hands, and kissed her lips, slowly and thoroughly, deepening the contact as they got lost in each other for a long while. It was intoxicating, and they finally broke apart to find themselves fully reclining on the comfy, plush leather couch. Carson looked up and smiled, pushing mussed hair out of Kennedy's eyes and back behind her ears. She giggled, as she realized both their shirts were mostly unbuttoned. She plucked playfully at the one remaining closed one on Kennedy's shirt, popping it open and pushing it back off her shoulders, before pulling Kennedy closer and kissing her way across a collar bone and down her cleavage. "Mmmmm." Kennedy worked Carson's jeans open, unzipping them and sliding one hand down the back, squeezing a firm butt cheek. "How about we take this to the bedroom?" Carson glanced over, where the fire was burning down, and sighed happily. At that moment, the mantle clock struck midnight. "Can't think of a better way to ring in Christmas morning." They kissed a few more times and reluctantly got up. Kennedy unplugged the tree lights and they made their way to the dog trot. As they entered the cold passageway, Kennedy backed Carson against the door that led to the bedrooms, and kissed her again, rubbing her body suggestively against Carson and practically purring as Carson slipped a knee between her legs. "Hey." Carson stopped and licked her lips. "It's snowing." With great effort, Kennedy pushed away from her enough to turn and look out the screen-covered entrance to the dog trot. "Oh, my god, it sure is." They moved closer to the screen and Kennedy wrapped herself around Carson from behind, as they watched the fine, white flakes float down. A light coating of frosty powder covered the ground, and the unique bright silence that only comes with snow, blanketed the land around them. "It's beautiful." Carson snuggled up against the warm body behind her. "First time it's snowed here in several years," Kennedy commented. "It's magical." Carson turned, hugging Kennedy's neck and standing on her toes, to give her a kiss. "Just like us." "Merry Christmas, Carson." Kennedy returned the kiss, and nudged her toward the door. "Merry Christmas to you, too." Carson backed through the door, leading Kennedy along behind her. "Now, I think it's time to open your first present." Kennedy growled in response. They reached the bedroom and quickly shed the rest of their clothing. Kennedy laughed and tumbled into bed, pulling Carson on top of her and rolling around until they were both beneath the covers. She nibbled a tasty earlobe, and purred into Carson's ear. "Now, where were we?" Carson laughed and ran her hands down two strong thighs, pulling Kennedy close and wrapping her own legs around the longer ones. "Here, I think." They rubbed noses, and more laughter bubbled up, as a Christmas celebration for two began. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE END, for now

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